


With astrolabe and carousel

by saltandbyrne



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Breathplay, Community: spnspringfling, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Sex Magic, Spring Fling, Wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 21:44:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6395053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandbyrne/pseuds/saltandbyrne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared needs a miracle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With astrolabe and carousel

**Author's Note:**

> My springfling fic for viviansface. I chose a song prompt for No Rest by Dry the River.

 

Jared needs a miracle.

 

He’s prayed.  To the God of the Father Superior, to the Heavenly Mother who bore him, to the saints and the angels all the way down to the small folk of his grandmother, Jared has prostrated himself to an army of deaf ears.

 

Past the King’s Head and down the hill from the one-eyed cobbler named Mac (not the one named Mick), Jared follows Chad’s older sister’s best friend’s cousin’s nanny’s milk twin’s directions to the best witch in the city.

 

Magic is illegal, of course, but so are the gas-lit taverns on the wrong side of the river where Jared had kissed another boy for the first time.  Jared puts stock in many things but the law isn’t one of them.

 

Jared used to think his Mama was a witch.   Her slim fingers plucked thread like indigo-dyed spells, looping hair-fine silk into tight bunches of violets and riotous magenta flowers that only existed in fairy stories.  Fine ladies would coo and their sly-eyed gentlemen would drop heavy coins into his Mama’s palm.

 

Then Mama’s eyes started to go and Jared learned the stark difference between skill and magic.

 

Women with sallow eyes and heavy breasts part from the shadows and half-heartedly pitch their wares.  They disappear back into the soot-worn stone like ghosts when Jared sets his mouth into a frown and shakes his head.  He’s a fool with his last coin burning a hole in his cloak pocket but he’s not hungry for the sins of the flesh right now.

 

The sign might have read _Mirabile Dictu_ once upon a time, just like the whores skulking in the adjacent doorway might have been beautiful in the first blush of their youth.  Now they both look pock-marked and worn down by the twin mistresses of time and poverty.

 

Jared squares his shoulders and steps inside.

 

Jared’s not some town-bred fancy boy but he’s not stupid.  Witches are supposed to look like withered old crones the way that queers like him are supposed to look like simpering ladies’ maids.  Still, Jared had at least been expecting a woman.

 

“We’re closed,” comes a gruff voice, hoarse with the disuse of willful disinterest.  Jared draws up every inch of himself and clears his throat, eyes flashing with the gold flecks he’d inherited from his Mama.

 

“No you’re not.”

 

That gets the man’s eyes up quick enough to make Jared’s heart skip.  Is this some illusion too, some conjure to make his stomach drop out and his palms sweat against his coarse pants.  His tongue goes thick, suspended in his mouth as the man behind the makeshift counter takes his measure.

 

“Maybe not.”

 

Jared swallows his distraction and abandons the meager sunlight of the door to step into the dust-strewn gloom of the shop.

 

“I’m looking for Jenny.”

 

The man smiles, slow with a hint of bittersweet Jared wants to lick off his lips. 

 

“It’s Jensen.”

 

“You’re a warlock?”

 

“Of course I’m not,” the man, _Jensen_ , rattles off, tilting his head to the side.  His eyes lock on Jared’s and Jared’s had hands on his cock that have made him jump less.

 

“Do I look like some law-breaking sodomite to you?”  Bemused, Jensen leans forward on the counter, his forearms folding feline over a stack of sepia ledger papers. 

 

“Do I?” Jared answers, willing up every ounce of bravado he’s acquired in his nineteen years.

 

Jensen snorts, one eyebrow arching above his verdant eyes.  There’s barely any sunlight filtering through the slit-glass windows but Jared can just trace the burst of freckles that butterflies over his face.

 

“I mean no offense.  I was told I’d find a witch here, I just assumed...”

 

Jensen shrugs.

 

“It’s not a rumor I’m quick to dispel.  People don’t trust witches but they kill warlocks on sight.”

 

He stands up to his full height, almost as tall as Jared.

 

“Don’t you know the stories about us?”

 

Jared arches his eyebrow and leans onto the counter, letting his back sway up as his cloak falls off one shoulder.  Jared is desperate, out of options, and hoping for a miracle from the gorgeous man giving him the cat’s eye, but nothing could keep him from arching closer when Jensen leans in.

 

Jared would still flirt with him if the world were burning down around them.

 

“Cocksuckers who’ll kill you in your sleep as soon as they’ll make the thick-thighed milk maid two farms over love you.”

 

Jared could listen to him say _cocksucker_ a thousand times.

 

“Are you going to kill me in my sleep?”

 

“Maybe.  That’s the part that got your attention?”  Jensen licks his lips, an act of God if Jared’s ever seen one.

 

“Maybe.”  Jared lets his eyes linger on Jensen’s mouth longer than he should but not as long as he’d like.

 

“Just because they’re right doesn’t mean they’re _right_ ”

 

“I don’t care if you bed sheep.  Can you do a spell for blindness?”

 

Jensen pauses, pensive lines creeping in around his forehead.

 

“Tell me.”

 

Jared thought it would be hard to ask a stranger for some forbidden assistance, but his words spill out in a rush as Jensen nods, impassive and palimpsest blank for Jared’s tale of woe.  The war, his father, the slow darkness creeping into his Mama’s eyes, the meager harvest their little plot yields, the empty stomachs of his siblings and the empty expression on his Mama’s face as she spent more of her days in bed.  Jensen asks questions that make no sense but surely that’s the way of magic.

 

“I can pay.”

 

Jared palms his coin.  It doesn’t look as shiny in the half-light of Jensen’s shop.

 

“That’s all you have in the world.”

 

“Yes, I-”

 

“Wasn’t a question.”

 

Jared’s heart skips in his chest when Jensen’s surprisingly rough palm cups his cheek. 

 

“What else can you offer me, farm boy?”

 

“I can suck your cock.”

Jensen’s brash smile blooms over his face.  Jared’s never been this bold, but he’s desperate and Jensen’s ring finger circles over the jut of his cheekbone like it was made to fit there.

 

“I’m sure you could.”

 

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

 

Jared sighs when Jensen pulls his hand back.

 

“And you will.”

 

Jensen’s forefinger weaves a secret symbol in the air.

 

“But you’ll do it because you want to.”

 

Jensen rises to his feet and Jared’s knees have never wanted to bend so badly.  He hates the supplication the Father Superior demands but the power swirling around Jensen is intoxicating.

 

“Bring me your milk teeth, if you still have them.”

 

Jared’s Mama keeps a little jar on the top cupboard shelf with a lock of Jared’s first hair and his baby teeth, just like every other Southlands mother who wasn’t entirely sold on the Holy Ascension and abjuration of the old gods.

 

“If I were caught doing a spell like this the Magisterium would feed me my own entrails.”

 

“Do you want me to beg?”

 

Jared will, gladly.

 

“Not for this.”

 

Jared’s mouth waters as Jensen chews thoughtfully on a luscious sliver of lip.

 

“Bring me your teeth, farm boy.  We’ll see what we can do.”

 

Jared steps out into the street and finds the sunlight a touch too bright.

 

~

 

Two days later, Jared puts his Mama to bed with a cloth that stinks like death on her eyes and a red string tied around her ring finger.  They say their prayers together before Jared has fitful dreams of demon spawn growing in his mouth.  They all look like Jensen.

 

His Mama wakes up with joyful tears in her eyes and it’s the last time Jared prays.

 

~

 

“You’d do best to pass her work off as your sister’s.”

 

Jared’s Mama can see again but she’s not a fool and neither is her son.  She’d made obeisance to the Father Superior and burned the cloth and string before anyone else saw it.

 

“She’s never made anything as beautiful.”

 

Jensen smiles, and it would be too simple to call it pride.

 

“Maybe next time I’ll just kill you in your sleep.”

 

Like he hasn’t a thousand times, like Jared hasn’t tossed and turned and ruined his bed clothes in the weeks since Jensen had gifted back his Mama’s sight and stolen Jared’s heart.

 

“What’s this for?”

 

Jared runs his finger over the gilt edge of what appears to be an oversize compass or an undersize Magisterium clock.

 

“It’s used to map the stars.”

 

“How can you map something that moves?”

 

Jensen looks at him, long and knowing.

 

“You give it a name.”

 

“Do all the stars have names?”

 

“I think they do.  Or they used to.”

 

Jensen kisses him then, in the open air of his shop like there aren’t a thousand people outside who would name them things like heretic and sinner for this. 

 

“I can show you, Jared.”

 

“The stars?”

 

Jared kisses him back before Jensen can answer.

 

~

 

Jensen’s hands are a wonder.  Knotted in a hank of Jared’s hair, twisting into the dip of his waist, kneading at the firm swell of his ass, Jensen maps every inch of Jared.

 

“Is this magic, too?”

 

“Always.”

 

Jensen kisses down the curve of Jared’s throat, sucking Jared’s skin into gooseflesh.  One wonderful hand grips the skin-soft press of their cocks together, each drag of Jensen’s hips sending sparks through Jared’s body.  It’s been hours, or days, an endless ocean of pleasure cresting closer and closer to the shore just to have Jensen pull him back.  It’s maddening and delicious and Jared never wants to kiss another set of lips as long as he lives.

 

“This is the strongest magic there is.”

 

Splayed on the small altar of Jensen’s bed, Jared worships, every humour in his body roiling at Jensen’s touch.  Jensen’s lips are the sweetest supplication he’s ever known.

 

“You have no idea how much power there is in here.”

 

Jensen splays his hand on Jared’s chest, palming over his heart while he strokes their cocks and coaxes another tear out of Jared’s dick.  He could weep he wants to come so badly and he never wants it to end.

 

“Can I have it?”

 

Like Jensen has to ask.  He takes the choked-out sob of Jared’s answer and strokes his skillful hand until Jared’s orgasm paints a constellation behind his eyes.

 

Jensen’s eyes glow in the lamplight as he licks his knuckles clean.

 

~

 

“What do you want, Jared?”

 

Jared’s never felt graceful but the bends and curves Jensen urges his body into are beautiful.  Legs spread shamelessly akimbo, his arms trapped behind his back and his neck arching toward the whispers of Jensen’s mouth, he sighs. Jensen sculpts his farm thick sinew into something Jared hardly recognizes.

 

“Your heart’s desire.”

 

With his family fed and Jensen’s soft bed sinking beneath them, Jared’s only wish is that this never end.

 

“Can you see it?”

 

Jared closes his eyes, focusing on the hot press of Jensen’s cock buried inside him.  Hips circling, Jensen moves slow, fucking him deep but never fast enough to push Jared over the edge.  It’s always like this, Jensen urging forward and pulling back until Jared’s a taut wire ready to sing whatever song Jensen needs to pluck from him.

 

“I want you.”

 

Jared’s Mama has been weaving things that take his breath away and fetch the sorts of prices that would scandalize the Magisterium tithe if they knew about it.  Their land has been fertile beyond measure, every living thing in it bearing new life that Jared can’t sell fast enough.  His family will never need for anything including Jared, and if Jensen has shown him one thing it’s that freedom is the greatest magic of all.

 

Jensen’s body drapes over him, heat searing into Jared everywhere they touch. 

 

“You can have it.”

 

Jared’s pulse flutters against Jensen’s hand on his throat.  Cock buried deep he slides up, fingers trailing a wake of shooting stars over Jared’s skin before he closes his hand over Jared’s mouth.  Jared trembles into oblivion, no air, no light, no darkness, just Jensen inside him, full and empty all at once like the sky above.  Tears burst into his eyes and he’s so close, orgasm coiling in his belly until Jared aches with his own power.

 

“Come for me, Jared, I’ll give you anything, everything.”

 

Jared closes his eyes and names the stars.

 

~

 

Jared’s tripping on the edge of sleep when he hears the flap of wings.

 

“Jared.”

 

There’s a raven clutching the foot of Jared’s bed.

 

“Jared, I have to go.”

 

Jensen’s voice warbles out of the bird’s mouth and Jared’s heart pounds in his chest.

 

“They found me, Jared, the Magisterium, they’re here and –“

 

The bird shudders as it issues the sound of rough hands pounding on a door.

 

“Come with me, Jared.”

 

“Jensen, are you –“

 

“If we leave, we can never come back.”

 

Jared clutches at the foxgloves embroidered on his bed sheets.  Jensen’s magic will keep his family safe long after Jared is gone.

 

“I’ll wait for you by the old lock’s bridge until dawn.”

 

Jared’s out of bed and slipping into his cloak before the bird relays the last word.  He leaves everything except a small handkerchief his mother had given him for his Confirmation.  There’s no time for goodbyes and maybe it’s better this way. 

 

Jared stops for one last look at their small farm before he slips out the door, leaving everything he knows for a man he loves and a life on the run.

 

It’s a small price to pay for a miracle.

 


End file.
